Authors Note: I am sorry once again. I have been having quite a few bumps these past months with personal issues. Hopefully you understand.

Warning, this chapter might be a bit nuts. But I assume most of you watch horror films so you can probably handle it.

I wake, my hands and feet feeling uncomfortable. Numb and tingling. Sort of how when you sit in the same position for too long and get the feeling of a billion tiny needles jabbing your body. I attempt to move, but instead I can't. Not just because I'm tied to wooden poles, but because I really can't move. I feel barely anything. In frustration, I tell my mind to twerk my leg, but it stays still like these limbs don't belong to me. Like I'm nothing to them.

"Ah, Nicole! I knew you'd come around."

"Why can't I move?" I ask, my insides turning cold. I feel a smirk.

"Aw, come on, you go to medical school. I'm sure you know what I gave you! Take a guess? Just to humor me." He takes a step forward into the light. Instead of wearing the suit, he's wearing something more comfortable. Jeans and red t-shirt. His hair is disheveled, and I suppose mine looks worse. If I could, I would glare and spit, thrash and kick.

In defeat, I say, "you paralyzed me. You stole confidential lab supplies and completely violated me."

"You'd be happy to know I didn't to touch you," he says, taking a seat on the corner of the bed. "That's a vile thing to do, and I plan to keep to my word, Nicole. I don't touch where one does not want to be touched."

I snort, "but you have no problem killing?" He leans forward, and places a hand on my leg. Luckily, my muscles are so relaxed that I can't feel a thing. Not even a breeze or a tickle. It seems, with every second his smile widens until it can't widen anymore. But no, each time he surprises me with. Grins wide and wide. Cruel.

"Sacrifice," he corrects as if his actions are anymore justified. With his long index finger and middle, he walks and traces them around my arms. Numb, but yet goosebumps still force themselves to grow on my arms. "Sweetheart, sacrifice. Our job. Rid the world of filth and scum. Nicole. My name on his tongue sounds sour.

"When will it wear off?"

"Whenever I want it to. Whenever I think you learned your lesson. Until I fully educate you about this fine night," he says, climbing on top of me.

"I thought-"

"I won't." He leans down. "Do you remember before the Purge, Nicole? You must! The monstrosity that filled our country. You have to remember! We were fools to the world, Nicole! We were mocked, but the Purge. It made us Gods as a nation once more." He grasps my jaw in his hand. "It's a gift. To cleanse our souls in such a personal way. Yes? Let's cleanse our souls together, Nicole. Let's violate our bodies," he says against my lips, placing a quick kiss.

"You're sick," I respond.

"No, Nicole," he moans into my neck. "No. They're the ones who are sick. The ones who abuse this fine night. An excuse to be filthy pricks. I am grateful for each kill."

"You're going to kill me."

"I wouldn't dream of that," he says. "I plan to make you scream as your blood seeps from the cuts on your skin. I want to cleanse you Nicole in the most delicate way, but at the same time make you feel it."

"I was wrong."

"Hm?" He climbs off of me, raising an eye as he reaches for a knife and syringe.

"You are ill!"

"See it as you want, babe, but I am doing you an honorable favor. I'm gifting you with a new beginning." He injects the needle in my neck, and within a few minutes my limbs come to me and I feel. I can feel his fingers tickling me.

"Don't hurt me."

"Not for long."

From the corner of my eyes, I watch as he sticks the long knife in a jar of water and my body begins to jerk as he smiles towards me. He sticks his finger up, and he then sticks the knife in a powder...a crystal like powder that can only be one thing. Salt. As he takes long strides back to me, my body freezes. It is like slow, taunting motion. Not only is he going to scar my body, but make it burn like the fiery pits of hell. I bite down on my lips ignoring the stinging from a previous cut. He grabs my arm, making it face upwards.

"Brace yourself," he whispers. "It'll be over soon. I promise, Nicole. It'll feel better once we are done. You'll feel new and light a beautiful-"

"Get it over with," I hiss.

He shakes his head, tisking, "don't be a selfish bitch. Your bitterness isn't wanted nor appreciated."

The salt covered knife touches my forearm, and he looks at me as the knife presses down and slices a long cut. About three inches. Nearing four. A high pitched scream slips from my lips as it burns and stings. I want to rub and itch it. Wash the salt off, but I'm stuck with the pain as this psychopath looks at it like it's art. As if my agony is his masterpiece.

"Oh, sweet, beautiful, Nicole," he moans, rubbing my cheeks, his thumb massaging my bottom lip. Then he does the unexpected. Something disgusting. Stomach churning and heart crushing. He licks the tip of the knife.

"What are-LET ME GO!" I scream, kicking and thrashing, but he is quick to make me stop.

"Nicole. I told you. We are cleansing our souls together. Isn't it beautiful?" he asks, his finger aggravating my new wound. "Just six more, dear."

"Six?"

"This one cleanses us of wrath. The next one will cure you of greed." He pulls at my let hand after setting up his knife. This one is a small, but powerful cut to my hand. He repeats his horrible act as the knife slides across his tongue. "Sloth." A long cut from my toe down to my heel. At this point, tears swell at my eyes, but I can't seem to form a scream. Just chokes and quiet pleads. "Pride," he whispers, grabbing my face.

"Please no." But he ignores my pleads and I can't get anymore fight out of me. He cuts small slits in the corner of my lips. I jump when his hand grasps my thigh.

"Lust." He pulls down my pants just to my knees and cuts the inside of my thigh. I shutter because this time he doesn't lick the knife, but my thigh and I expect a groan of protest to slip out, but instead I moan . "No, no, Nicole. You are being cleansed of such an act." His voice vibrates against my skin.

All I can get out is a dry, "forgive me."

"Envy," he says in thought. "Where should you go?" he smirks. He lifts my shirt and I bite my lip hard as he cuts between my breasts. Above my heart.

"Just gluttony," I say, thankful, to myself. And as suspected, he makes a two inch long cut on my tummy. Everywhere hurts, but yet I am numb. My mind spinning and all I see are evil smirks and blood. "Done?"

"Almost. Now, you bathe."

As he unchains me, standing is almost impossible, but he makes me walk. Cleansing us of our sloth. I'm hissing as he makes me walk more on that foot, but the bathroom is connected to this room. I know because the house is built almost the same way as mine. Little waves of steam circle above. A sweet fragrance tickles my nose. And I feel relaxed. My abused body aside.

"This way, sweetheart," he purrs, helping me. I don't care about my clothes stripping off. All I care is comfort and ease hoping twenty four hours will pass a lot quicker than most years. I slip into the world of relaxation and slowly the clear water turns to a light pink. Nicely, he hands me a cloth and a bar of lemon scented soap.

I groan as I clean my new cuts and the water turns into a bubbly pink mess.

"Come on," he says, lifting me out and handing me a soft towel. Once I dry off, I'm given a white dress. Similar to the ones those other girls were wearing.

"Did you do the same to them?"

"Isabella and Sarah? No. Now dress." And I do.

Once he cleans his mess, and I'm sitting trying to ignore the agony and irritation over my body, he joins me on a sofa bed. We sit in silence. There is nothing to say. I'm too terrified, but I am far too tired to shake.

A minute passes, then another.

The silence hurts, and I force myself to speak. "What is your name?" He doesn't answer. "May I go home? Am I cleansed?" I am treated with the same answer. So I try to stand.

"Sit."

"I want to go home."

"You can't always get what you want, Nicole," he says a bit more casual. "Now, sit."

"We are done."

"No," he says, pressing his lips. He grabs a gun and stands. "Now, Nicole, we Purge."